Look up, my dovey.' The pigeon gave a flutter, and spread out one of its red-spotted wings across the old woman's bosom.
'I will mend the little angel,' she said, 'and in a week or two it will be flying again.

So you may ease your heart about the pigeon.' 'Oh, thank you! Thank you!' cried Curdie.

'I don't know how to thank you.' 'Then I will tell you.

There is only one way I care for.

Do better, and grow better, and be better.